


four, three, two, one, i'm letting you go

by katiemariie



Category: Farscape
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 08:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiemariie/pseuds/katiemariie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a drabble meme, I was given Stark and the word, anagapesis - the feeling when one no longer loves someone they once did. Stark follows Zhaan's voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	four, three, two, one, i'm letting you go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arevhat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arevhat/gifts).



Stark loses Zhaan in pieces. All while trying to find her again.

Just off of Valldon, a sudden pain on the left side of his face. It throbs and aches for days just like... just like... just like after Aeryn came back to life.

Following the trail of Zhaan's voice, a few systems down, he sells his psyche for food. He takes a quick look at a rough draft of the game: Zhaan dwarfs him—in the deepest recesses of his mind, she's a monster dripping poison from one breast and salvation from another.

He doesn't stop to think what that means.

Her voice growing stronger, he finds himself on a rogue planet doing odd jobs for fuel—for him and his small craft. While mending a fur coat, he sees a flicker of a memory—whose memory he cannot be certain as the Aurora Chair shredded much of his brain. Aeryn floats in the seat of her prowler, bathed in a glorious light. Stark jabs himself with a needle—whether on accident or not is unknown to him—and the memory disappears.

He feels doubt creeping into his soul as Zhaan's cries grow desperate. He's beginning to suspect that any meeting between them—between the two worlds—would be mostly for Zhaan's benefit. It's one of the few occasions he's right.

“Stark,” she murmurs. She looks beautiful. Like a crystherium.

“Zhaan!” he cries. “You shouldn't be here.”

“I know, my love. I need your help. I need you to forgive me.”

“Forgive you? Forgive you for—”

Stark loses Zhaan all at once. He remembers: a punch to the jaw, unconsciousness in the corporeal realm, opening his mask, his light spilling everywhere into places it should not go, a means to an end. The same story with a different antagonist. But this one had a kind face.

“You used me,” he says quietly.

“But only to save Aeryn!”

“And now you want my forgiveness.”

“Yes, the Goddess will not welcome me—”

“You're forgiven.” And just like that, he lets her go.


End file.
